An Affair of the Heart
by ladycobert
Summary: Coping with little Lady Mary and baby Edith exhausts the young lord and lady; Cora's maid begins to suspect something is amiss.
1. Perkins

It had been yet another long night. Robert came back into the bedroom after having his valet dress him, dark shadows under his eyes. He sat on the chaise, and Mary ran over on her stocky little legs, lifting her hands up to him. He swung her up onto his lap and looked over at his wife.

"Cora, we can't keep doing this. It's exhausting enough for me; I can't even imagine how tired you must be." Weariness edged Robert's voice. He wrapped his arms around his daughter, cuddling her close and brushing the hair back from her face.

From her place propped against her pillows in bed, Cora glanced up from watching baby Edith nurse. The deep purple patches beneath her eyes matched her husband's. "What do you suggest, Robert? I'm not sure what will help."

Robert pressed one of Mary's ears to his chest and covered the other with his hand, saying very softly, "For one thing we need to stop letting Mary sleep with us at night."

"Darling, she can't help that she's having nightmares," she said, smiling at her eldest.

"Mama, Papa, I can still hear you," Mary's voice piped up.

Robert moved his hand away from Mary's ear, and Cora laughed. "Mary, you should go to your nanny now and get dressed. Papa will come get you for your lessons in a little while." She shifted Edith a bit in her arms.

Mary fixed her papa with pathetic eyes and a wobbly chin. "Do I have to, Papa?"

Dropping a kiss on his daughter's head, Robert nodded. "Yes, Mary. Run along, and I'll be there soon, and I'll read you your favorite book."

Grinning, Mary scrambled down from her papa's lap and ran to the door, waiting for him to open it. When he did, she sprinted down the hall to her own room.

Closing the door again, Robert sighed.

Cora extended her hand to him, and he sat on the bed, holding her hand in his. "It won't be forever," she consoled him. "I'm sure the nightmares will stop once Mary realizes she isn't being replaced by her baby sister." She chuckled lightly, pulling her hand away so she could rest Edith on her shoulder, patting her back to burp her.

Passing his hand over his eyes, Robert sighed once more. "Edith's five months old, Cora, and Mary doesn't seem to be getting better. In fact, if you ask me, it's worse. She didn't used to knock on our door in the middle of _every_ night."

"No, that's true, darling. I'm endeavoring to look on the bright side here."

Robert looked at her. "I'm sorry, my dear one. I'm simply very tired, and I know you are. Besides," he leaned closer to her and whispered, "I miss you."

Glancing at him empathetically, her voice soft, she said, "I miss you too. It's been far too long. And I don't mean just that." She blushed. "But since we had an entire night alone together."

Leaning even closer, Robert pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, then one to Edith's forehead. "Why can't she stay in her nursery at night, again?"

Shaking her head slightly, Cora repeated for what felt like the tenth time, "It's really not fair to the nurse, Robert. She needs her sleep too."

"And we don't?" Seeing her frown, Robert rubbed his eyes again. "I didn't mean to snap, darling. I suppose I was looking forward to the baby finally sleeping through the night more than I realized."

Cora shifted Edith to one arm, lowering her voice so as not to disturb the baby's sleep. "You and I both. I hadn't counted on her teething so early and painfully. My poor little girl." She put her hand on top of Robert's. "We'll think of something, my love."

Robert nodded at her, taking in how very beautiful she looked – despite how the long nights getting up with Edith and comforting Mary were showing on her face. He knew why she wanted Edith with them, and it wasn't for the sake of the nurse's sleep. It was because her mother's heart couldn't bear thinking of her baby in pain and someone else soothing her. As for Mary, the theme of her nightmares made Cora want to reassure her there was room for both her and the baby in Mama and Papa's heart and life. Apparently this translated very literally to include their bedroom and, in fact, their bed.

At Cora's suggestion that he sleep in his dressing room so he might have a chance of getting a little more rest than he had been, Robert told her no, without a moment's hesitation. It wasn't just that he felt a fatherly duty or even a husbandly duty, but that, every morning they awoke with Mary between them, he wondered if being physically separated by their children might turn into a different type of gulf between them. He didn't want to put any more distance between him and Cora than there already was. And he certainly didn't want her to feel he'd abandoned her with the children, even if it was her suggestion.

No, they would stick it out together, he'd decided. And his reward – for, in spite of the lack of sleep and missing time alone with his wife, there were indeed rewards – was moments like these, where he watched his wife and baby in a serene tableau, Cora smiling her sweet smile at him, or early morning cuddles with Mary, or being able to be the one who consoled her when she came in from her nightmare and Cora already had her hands full with a fussy Edith.

Yes, the rewards were sweet.

However, (and as much as he hated himself for thinking it) he wasn't sure they completely made up for the time alone with Cora he was missing.

But she had said they would think of something. So, kissing her tenderly, he departed to send her lady's maid and Edith's nurse to the bedroom, and to collect little Lady Mary for her "lessons."

* * *

Several weeks later, Perkins sat alone in the servants' hall, repairing one of her mistress' tea gowns. It had been ripped. The tear was almost unnoticeable, but of course an excellent lady's maid – as Lady Grantham's was – would notice the unnoticeable on her employer's things.

Perkins' forehead creased with a frown.

The lady's maid had only been at Downton for a relatively short time, arriving only one day after Lady Edith. Hired for her sweet temperament and for her superior sewing skills, Perkins had fit in comfortably with the other staff in the house. She approved of the way the household was run, even though she quickly realized that some of the habits of Lord and Lady Grantham were… _odd_, particularly given their station and standing in the community. One of the most unusual habits to which Perkins had to become accustomed was that the two slept in the same bedroom. Despite this, she'd taken to the gentle, foreign Lady Grantham, and she had also developed a great respect for Downton's generous master, Lord Grantham.

Over the months she'd been there, she could see that the lord and lady of the house felt a genuine love for one another. It was rare in this type of household, and it touched her in a way she couldn't quite explain. She would inadvertently witness unexpected kindnesses and shows of affection of lord for lady. And, invariably, after one of these exchanges had occurred – whether his lordship had presented her ladyship with flowers, or had sat with her and their daughters for a while, or had simply given her a soft kiss on her forehead or touched her hand, which was all he would do when he knew Perkins was watching – Lady Grantham's eyes took on a look of adoration. Perkins felt some unaccountable need to protect such a beautiful thing.

The past few weeks had passed very similarly to the ones before. Lord and Lady Grantham still had teething baby Edith in their bedroom at night, and Lady Mary continued to waken from nightmares and pad to her parents' door demanding entry in the middle of the night. The parents and toddler would awaken late in the morning from a long night, and little Lady Mary would be sent to her nanny, Lord Grantham would remove to his dressing room to get dressed, and Lady Grantham would nurse Edith before calling for Perkins. For the rest of the morning, his lordship took Lady Mary into the library for what she called her "lessons." These consisted of his reading to her from her favorite books, helping her carefully trace her letters – at her insistence – with his hand guiding hers, and father telling daughter stories of the things he learned in school and all about the estate and house. Lady Mary took these "lessons" very seriously and chided her father when he tried to put her off (usually because he wanted a nap). She was a precocious little girl and loved to learn – especially since realizing that correct discourse aided her in telling her parents and nanny exactly what she wanted. While father and daughter were busy with this, mother and baby would be washed and dressed before it was time for another feeding.

Lord and Lady Grantham allowed Lady Mary to join the adults for luncheon, a priviledge of which she was supremely proud. There had been only a few days when little Lady Mary proved too bad-tempered for polite company and had to be removed from the table.

In the early afternoons Lady Grantham, Lady Mary, and baby Edith napped while Lord Grantham went out on the estate. Lady Grantham would wake when Edith was brought in for another feeding, then she would rest for a few hours alone in her room. Everyone in the house was to leave her ladyship strictly alone during these hours: even Lady Mary learned to play in her own room while her mama had this necessary respite, and the baby's nurse entertained Edith. The family all met together again for tea, the parents paying special attention to their eldest, attempting to assuage her jealousy over the baby. Lady Mary and baby Edith would be taken to their nurseries so the lord and lady of the house could dress for and have dinner. It appeared to be their favorite time of day; they often dined alone, since having company over was too taxing when combined with their restless nights, although at least once a week they would have the Dowager Countess to dine with them. This was perhaps more taxing than other company might have been, but was also a necessity.

After dinner, the entire cycle would begin again. Perkins wondered that Lord and Lady Grantham didn't simply collapse from fatigue. And then there was the question of when they could ever be alone together….

Perkins considered it part of her job to notice the unnoticeable, things that most people would never remark upon, simply because they were unremarkable. Except Perkins had always thought that, at times, those things were the most interesting and telling. Over the past weeks, the lady's maid had gathered up a few of these unnoticeable and unremarkable things concerning her mistress. At first, they really were tiny things. One evening a few weeks ago, while Perkins was changing her ladyship for tea with her family, she noticed that her mistress' tea gown was fastened all wrong. Deciding that Lady Grantham had perhaps been overly warm and taken it off in the privacy of her room and had tried fastening it herself too quickly, Perkins said nothing. Then it began to happen more often, and Perkins started to wonder. But, it not being her place to say anything, and not wanting to be thought nosy, she still kept mum.

Another thing Perkins had noted was the satisfied, happy almost smirk on the face of her mistress after her few hours of solitude every afternoon. Lady Grantham still appeared exhausted – perhaps even more so, which was peculiar after hours of supposed rest – but pleased, gratified. Like the cat who had the cream. This expression had only showed itself a few times the first week, but for the past two, Perkins saw it on her ladyship's face every day.

She had also begun to smell men's cologne on Lady Grantham's tea gowns.

Perkins couldn't help it. She was worried. She had become fond of her young mistress, and she didn't want to cast aspersions upon her, but the evidence continued to pile up. And now here was a tea gown, ripped. Perkins felt sure that if her ladyship had caught it on something, she would have said something to her. Lady Grantham generally apologized if she damaged a piece of clothing, never wanting to give her maid unnecessary work. But this went unremarked.

Thinking of Lord Grantham, of how he looked at her ladyship, of how obvious it was to the lady's maid – to all in the house – how much he loved his wife.…it pained Perkins to think that something she felt such a strong need to protect might be damaged. Or that one of the two people she respected most might hurt the other one.

For if what Perkins thought might be happening in Lady Grantham's bedroom during her solitary rest time was in fact happening, it was when Lord Grantham was out on the estate.

The thought nearly brought her to tears. She shook her head, attempting to put the odious thought out of her mind. But it wouldn't go. It all added up. And to nothing good.

Perkins put her things into her work basket, folding the tea gown up neatly. She hadn't finished mending it, but her fingers were shaking too badly to continue work on it. Placing the basket in her apartment, the lady's maid started toward her ladyship's room. Perkins was, at the heart of it, a very honest, straight-forward person, and she did not like to jump to conclusions.

Thus, she decided to simply ask her ladyship about the whole business. So, in the quiet of the afternoon, Perkins approached her ladyship's door.

What she didn't expect, as she raised her hand to knock, was to hear noises from just behind the door. Low groans and dull thuds, as if someone were already knocking on the door, but from the opposite side. Perkins covered her mouth, her eyes wide. She could hear heavy breathing now, and then her mistress' voice, breathy and low – if Perkins wasn't standing right where she was, she wouldn't have heard it – and interrupted by the thudding, "Can we – " thump "do this –" thump "against the – " thump "other door?" thump "Someone – " thump "might hear…" After this Perkins heard her ladyship gasp, "Ooh!" before the noises grew almost inaudible for a while.

Perkins finally realized she was standing there, listening at her employer's door, and was about to beat a hasty retreat when an unmistakable cry of pure delight reached her ears, followed closely by a second, much gruffer one.

Nearly running down the stairs, Perkins hoped she wouldn't meet anyone on the way, because she still had her hand clasped tightly to her mouth and was close to tears.

It was true. Lady Grantham was having an affair.


	2. Her Ladyship's Affair

"Perkins? Are you alright? You seem somewhat distracted." Cora tugged her dinner gloves up over her elbows, fixing her lady's maid with a puzzled look.

The maid appeared to give herself a slight shake before turning her face to her mistress, giving her a smile that seemed to pain her. "Quite well, my lady. I'm almost finished here," she said, putting a few final touches on her coiffure.

Cora dabbed her favorite perfume behind her ears, glancing up in the mirror to where Perkins stood behind her, wringing her hands. "Are you sure nothing is wrong? You look like you have something to ask or say to me." She turned in her chair to face the maid properly.

Perkins' face underwent several transformations in rapid succession, going from red to white to red once more, and she didn't appear to want to meet her employer's eyes. Finally settling on a spot just behind her ladyship's right shoulder, she responded, "No, my lady. If there is nothing else, I'll just—" She left off abruptly and began tidying the room, leaving Lady Grantham perplexed at her uncharacteristic behavior.

At the knock on the dressing room dividing door, Perkins jumped, hitting her head on the bed post.

"Come in," Cora sang before addressing her maid, "Are you alright?" She feared she might begin sounding like a parrot.

As Lord Grantham entered the room, Perkins rubbed her forehead and mumbled, "Quite alright, my lady," as she glanced at his lordship with sad eyes, her face coloring again.

"You may go then, Perkins." She paused before adding, "I hope your head is fine." Cora stood and put her hand in her husband's.

"I will be fine, my lady," she murmured, rushing to leave the room.

Robert looked at Cora in some confusion. "What was that all about?" He kissed her cheek and squeezed her hand.

Cora's look mirrored his. "I honestly don't know, Robert." She shook her head, and they went down to dinner together.

* * *

Perkins tossed and turned that night. She was certain that if, between herself and the Granthams, she placed the wager on herself getting less sleep, she'd win that bet. She sported a slightly raised bruise from hitting her head on the bedpost, but that wasn't why she couldn't sleep.

She attempted to go about her morning duties as normally as possible, knowing that Lady Grantham thought her conduct the night before most peculiar. However, she couldn't quite manage it. Her ladyship didn't ask her again if she was alright but continued to eye her warily.

During the family's luncheon, Perkins decided what to do. She helped her ladyship out of her morning dress and into her tea gown, then waited in the hallway outside of his lordship's dressing room. He always told Lady Mary a story before her nap, and then he would come back to his dressing room to collect his gear for going out on the estate.

Down the hallway, Lord Grantham closed the door to his eldest daughter's room very gently. Perkins drew herself up to her full five feet and a bit, preparing herself to speak to his lordship, feeling herself flush at her own audacity.

Robert walked up to the lady's maid, wondering if something was wrong with Cora. "Perkins? Is her ladyship well?"

Perkins swallowed hard. "My lord, if I could speak to you a moment about a somewhat delicate matter…." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Feeling his eyebrows raise, Robert, keeping his own voice low, said, "I get the sense that you would like to tell me something that shouldn't be said in the hallway."

Nodding, Perkins' face grew a shade redder.

Giving his own nod of understanding, he said, "Follow me." He turned and ushered the maid to his and Cora's upstairs sitting room, casting a glance down the hallway before he closed the door behind them. "Now. What's this you need to tell me, Perkins?" Robert knew it had to be something serious for her to approach him at all. The woman looked rather nervous.

Perkins squeezed her eyes shut before blurting out all in one breath, "Lord Grantham, I believe her ladyship is having an affair." Only then did she open her eyes.

Robert opened and closed his mouth several times, not certain what to say, his face draining of color.

That color disappearing from his face seemed to appear in Perkins' own increasingly flushed countenance. "I would have spoken to her ladyship herself about it, but…" She looked down at her hands, "I couldn't."

Clearing his throat, Robert seemed to have found his voice again. "Perkins? This is a very serious accusation you're making against her ladyship. What makes you think she is, as you say, having an affair?" He looked as if the very words cut like razor-blades issuing from his lips.

The lady's maid met his eyes. "First of all, my lord, there are the tea gowns."

"The tea gowns?" he inquired, confusedly.

"Yes, Lord Grantham. There are the tea gowns which are fastened wrong, and then the tea gown yesterday that was ripped." Now that she was telling him the facts of the matter, she felt calmer, her voice growing stronger.

He blinked rapidly. "Fastened wrong… ripped?"

Perkins watched his lordship's face undergo a sort of convulsion, the color coming back to it. "Yes, my lord, that's what I said. And then," she went on, "there is the man's cologne scent upon them."

Robert pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his brow, feeling his face begin to turn red. "Yes?" he strangled out, wondering if there was more.

"And then there's the, ahem, pleased look on her ladyship's face after her afternoon rest," Perkins wasn't sure how this detail could be evidence, but it seemed relevant, so she said it.

Moving the handkerchief down to cover his mouth, Robert choked out, "Is there more, Perkins?"

He hadn't thought she could get any redder, but she did now. "Yes, your lordship. I hesitate to tell you, however…"

Robert made another strangling noise, closing his eyes, before saying, "No, I would like to hear all of it, since I've heard this much, please."

"Well, my lord," Perkins couldn't bear to look at his face any longer, so she looked down, her voice getting smaller again as she went on, "I thought to ask her ladyship about these things yesterday afternoon, and when I went to the door, I heard…_noises_." She said this last word in a hushed tone, as if to convey the nature of the sounds by this alone. Then she lifted her eyes to Lord Grantham's face again.

His lordship was beet red, grimacing fiercely, his eyes streaming, even though he kept wiping at them with his handkerchief. The noises escaping his throat sounded inhuman – as if he were choking back more tears, strangling over emotion.

Perkins' eyes widened. "I'm sorry, Lord Grantham, I… I should have gone to her ladyship instead. I –" Without another word, she rushed out of the room, closing the door behind her. As she hastened away, she heard a series of loud sobs. She drew out her own handkerchief once she was safely around a corner of the hallway, out of earshot. Here she dried her own eyes, whispering, "Poor Lord Grantham."

* * *

That afternoon, her ladyship entered an ecstatic state not once, but multiple times. Her tea gown lay discarded on the bed along with her nursing chemise, petticoats, and drawers. The pair were entwined upon the chaise longue, and Cora whispered throatily in his ear, "You can be a bit rougher, I'm not fragile now."

"I would hope not, not after yesterday against the door," he said, and if he wasn't in the middle of endeavoring to comply with her request and somewhat out of breath, he might have chuckled.

Cora wrapped her legs around him tighter, tugging his hair, encouraging him to thrust deeper into her, causing him to grunt with effort and finally push her over the edge once more. "Yes," she hissed. "Yes…."

Only moments later he slumped against her, taking great gulps of air and, when his pulse had steadied, kissing her neck. "That was wonderful," he whispered.

"Mmmmm…" she acknowledged. Then she tapped his shoulder. "The time –"

Her lover looked up. "Damnit. It would have been nice to have you to myself a while longer." He got up and put his underthings on.

"I know. I hate waiting almost a whole day to be alone with you again." Cora sat up on the chaise.

He retrieved her chemise from the bed and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Don't pout, please. I rather enjoy this stolen time. Arms up." He held the chemise over her head.

Cora raised her arms up so he could put her chemise on her, pulling it down over her. He had told her that since their disrobing was always so frenzied that he would take his time to dress her again tenderly, with great care. He insisted upon this, even though she could do it quicker herself. In fact, they had gotten to where they didn't watch the clock as cautiously as they should, leading to the process of fastening being rushed, and even causing him rip her gown a little two days prior.

As he went over to the bed to retrieve her other garments, placing them on the chaise and coaxing her to stand so she could step into the drawers he held out, he did chuckle. "I think we need to be more careful about dressing you."

Stepping into the first petticoat and turning so he could button it around her waist, Cora asked, "Why is that?"

"Oh, a little bird told me she thinks my wife might be having an affair," he chuckled again, pulling the second petticoat over her head and buttoning this behind her as well.

"Robert!" Cora twisted around to look into his face, evidently appalled. "Who was it? What did she say? What did _you_ say?"

Picking up the tea gown, Robert scrunched up the fabric so he could put this, too, over her head. "It was Perkins. I have to say her concern was quite moving. I was moved to tears in fact."

"Tears?"

"I couldn't help it, Cora. I was laughing, and I was trying so much to hide it. I didn't know how to tell her that your lover – is me. I laughed so hard I cried, and now I'm not sure what to tell the poor woman." He began to laugh again thinking of it.

Cora blinked a few times, then, taking in the situation, she began to laugh herself. "Oh, Robert, what she must think of me! No wonder she's been acting so strangely! What should we say to her? Or should we just ignore it? We did it this way on purpose. That secret passage into the house has been most useful…." Her laughter turned into concern.

Dropping the tea gown over her head, Robert let go of the satin and placed his hands gently on either side of her face. "Cora, darling. Don't worry about it. We're not doing a thing wrong. She was going to come and talk to you herself, unsure about it all, but, er, she heard something yesterday that convinced her you were indeed having an affair."

"What?" Her eyes grew wide.

Robert's eyes moved to the fastenings on her gown. "Well, er, ahum – do you remember how you said we should move from the bedroom door to the dressing room door?"

"She didn't!" Despite herself and the color creeping down her neck, Cora began to giggle. "Oh, the poor woman! And I'm going to blush every time I see her now! Robert Crawley, why did you tell me she heard that?"

Robert's eyes flicked up to hers, his face wreathed in a grin, before looking back down to what he was doing. "I didn't say it on purpose, Cora. Although _that_ was by far the most amusing part of my discussion with Perkins. I thought I would choke with suppressed laughter. I'm not sure _I_ can look at her without blushing."

Cora couldn't stop giggling. "Hurry now, the nurse will be here with Edith any minute."

Finishing with her fastenings, Robert impetuously thrust his hands into her hair at her temples and looked deeply into her eyes. The action stilled her giggles, and she gazed back at him. "Cora, I am so glad I am your only love affair." With this, he gave her one last long, tender kiss, then quickly gathered his clothes and slipped next door into his dressing room, leaving her grinning when the nurse arrived just moments later.


	3. Little Lady Mary

"Mama! Papa!"

Robert nuzzled his head farther into his wife's neck, refusing to believe that their daughter was knocking on their door yet again. Only moments before, Cora had climbed into bed after getting Edith settled in her bassinet, and Robert had just now wrapped his arms around her, simply to be close to her, to feel her steady breathing against him.

Mary's voice rose, becoming more adamant, her staccato knocks sharper. "Papa, pleaseeeee let me in! I had another nightmare, and I can't sleep!"

Cora pressed her lips to the top of his head, kissing it, then whispered, "You know she'll simply stand there and knock until you open the door, darling. You might as well do it before she wakes the whole house."

Briefly squeezing her tighter to him, he rolled over and got up with a groan, mumbling under his breath that Mary "gets her stubbornness from her mother and her granny" and "the master of the house can't sleep, but let's not wake the rest of the house, nooooo…."

Opening the door, Robert stood in his long night shirt and looked down at his little daughter, his hands on his hips, stubble darkening his jaw and dark patches staining the skin beneath his eyes. His height of six feet, two inches might have intimidated some children, but not his Mary. She looked right back up at him, her bare toes peeping from underneath her floor-length white nightgown, her arms at her sides, her long brown hair wild, and her cheeks streaked with tears.

"Papa, I need to sleep with you and Mama. My room is too dark and too quiet, and I don't want to wake Nanny."

Robert stopped himself from snorting in disbelief. He was no more fooled by Mary's desire not to wake her nanny than he was by Cora's not to wake Edith's nurse – even if he knew Cora's concern for the nurse's sleep was genuine, albeit not her sole reason for wanting Edith with them at night. In some ways, he admired and took great pride in his tiny progeny's early proficiency at rationalization and near Jesuitical skill at debate. But not when it was used against him.

"Don't you have a night light burning, Mary? And don't you want Mama and Papa to have some sleep as well?" He had difficulty keeping the exasperation from his voice.

A shadow briefly crossed the little girl's face, as if she were choosing between two weapons: reasoning and begging. She seemed to choose a combination of the two, for Mary lifted her velvety brown eyes to him pleadingly, saying, "We can all sleep together, Papa. Your bed is big enough for all of us. I like sleeping with you and Mama."

Robert sighed and looked over at his wife. Her blue eyes were soft, her smile slightly amused. Then he looked down upon his daughter, her face turned up to his expectantly, her hands clasped together now. "Two against one, I suppose." He picked her up and kissed her flushed cheek, closed the door and put her down on the bed next to his wife.

Mary clung to her mother's arm and Cora glanced over at her husband, mouthing to him, "I'm sorry, darling."

Tucking himself under the bedclothes beside Mary, Robert shook his head, saying in a low voice, "It's not your fault. Let's try to get some sleep, my dear." He smiled at her, then ran his fingers through his daughter's unkempt hair before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

The next thing he knew, Robert felt a solid kick to the small of his back, sending him rolling off the bed and onto the floor with a thud.

"Bloody hell!" he yelled out involuntarily.

"Robert!" Cora hissed, awakened by his expletive and unaware that he now lay on the floor.

Picking himself up, he stood beside the bed, looking at his wife in some annoyance.

"What happened?" she whispered, now seeing that he'd been on the floor.

Pointing at the sleeping little girl who lay at a perfect perpendicular angle to her mother, Robert whispered fiercely, "Your daughter kicked me out of bed!" He rubbed his behind, upon which he'd landed rather hard.

Cora looked like she was fighting back giggles. "Dressing room?" she inquired.

Nodding, Robert crossed the room and opened the door for his wife, who kissed Mary's head before sliding out of bed and proceeding him into the dressing room.

Keeping her voice low, Cora said, "Darling, I'm so sorry."

Robert pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers with one hand, closing his eyes, in a gesture reminiscent of his father when he felt a headache coming on. "What for, Cora? At least _you_ didn't kick me out of bed."

Cora dropped wearily into a chair. "Oh, Robert. I'm sorry that we're having to do this. I know that we should insist that Mary stay in her own room, but my heart just can't bear sending her away when she implores us like that."

Removing his hand, Robert stared at her. "Has it ever occurred to you, Cora, that she does that to play on your emotions, so she can get what she wants? She has the pair of us perched upon her tiny fingers like puppets." He didn't sound upset, however, merely tired.

Nodding, Cora said, "Yes. It did occur to me. What on earth are you teaching her?" She gave a low laugh.

The corners of his mouth turning up slightly, Robert remarked, "You would be amazed at how much she comes up with all on her own, Cora. She's an incredible little thing."

"Well, of course she is, my dear." Getting up, she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, stroking the back of his hair. "She has you for a papa."

Robert slid his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. "Oh no, sweetheart. If she's incredible, it's because of her mama." He leaned down and placed his lips on hers, kissing her tenderly, pleasantly surprised when she deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue into his mouth.

They hadn't had their afternoon together that day. After Cora found out that Perkins heard them and thought the worst of her employer – to the point of telling her husband what she suspected – she'd decided that they could no longer meet in the afternoons. The plan wasn't as foolproof as she'd thought it would be, apparently. Since his meeting with Perkins, Robert had carefully avoided the maid. Cora tried to act as if she knew nothing, but it made for incredible tension, Perkins looking at Cora with a mixture of sadness, embarrassment, and disappointment, Cora endeavoring not to blush or blurt out the truth – which she wasn't sure Perkins would believe at this point anyway. Until Cora knew what to do, she didn't want to risk adding anything to Perkins' disillusionment with her mistress, mistaken as it was.

Thus, when Cora pressed herself against Robert, he snaked his hands over her bottom, cupping it through her nightdress, evoking a gasp of pleasure from her. "Are you tired?" she whispered against his lips.

"No more than usual," he chuckled softly, hitching up her night dress to caress her abdomen and slip his hand beneath the waistband of her drawers and between her thighs while continuing to kiss her mouth, her neck, her collarbone.

Purring her delight, writhing in his grasp, she followed suit, raising his night shirt to press her hand against his already hard arousal through his underthings. He groaned against her neck, nearly losing his concentration, but quickly regaining his bearings and pushing his fingers into her, drawing lazy circles there, his other arm wrapped securely around her waist to keep her upright.

"Robert," she breathed, panting. Cora moved her hands around to his backside and squeezed tightly.

He shocked her with his bark of pain. "Ow!"

Cora drew back and looked at him in confusion, his fingers having gone still inside her.

"I'm sorry, Cora, that's where I landed earlier when Mary kicked me out of bed." He gazed at her expression, all of a sudden becoming amused at the situation, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Papa!" A tiny voice pierced through the dressing room door. "Papa, are you hurt? Mama, are you in there too?"

The corners of Cora's mouth twitched as well. "Speak of the – well, speak of Mary." She began to laugh, seeing things as he must have seen them, taking in their ridiculous circumstances, how tired they both were, how they stood there together, his fingers not having moved from their place, his arousal still pressing against her hip, their daughter knocking at the door during the only real time they'd had to themselves in over a day.

Seeing his wife full of mirth lead Robert to laugh as well. He carefully removed his hand from her drawers and pulled her nightdress down as they laughed together.

"Mama, Papa, what is so funny?" She began knocking.

Robert pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead, then one to her lips. "You'd better go, before she wakes the baby. I will have to wait a moment." He indicated the front of his night shirt, which protruded a bit from his body.

Cora blushed and giggled a little. "Wait for me. I'll be right back." His eyes lit up, but her face grew serious. "I mean for a talk. I don't think _that_ is a good idea to try again tonight." Kissing his cheek, she walked past him to the door of the dressing room, slipping to the other side.

Sitting gingerly on the bed he kept made up in there, Robert waited, his excitement waning and exhaustion tugging at his eyelids. Just as he was about to give up and lean back upon the pillows, Cora entered the room and sat beside him, taking his hand.

"Mary's not asleep, but I told her she had to be a good girl and lie there while we talked or else I'd send her back to her own room for the rest of the night."

"As if you would," Robert mumbled.

For the first time in a while, Cora's voice sounded severe. "Do you think any of this is easy for me either, Robert? I'm trying to balance everything here, and I count on you to help me. I know you're tired and frustrated, and that you're speaking from that, but please watch that it doesn't turn into a habit." She looked down. "I don't want to be the one to kick you out of bed."

Robert turned to her, his face contrite, picking up her hand and kissing the back of it. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…." He sighed. "I know how difficult it is for you, and I want to do everything I can to support you. I apologize, darling." Now it was his blue eyes which pleaded, and Cora could see where their daughter got that look.

Just to put a finer point on it, Cora said, "I told you that anytime it was too much, you could sleep in here. Perhaps there's no need for the two of us to be without sleep…."

"No, Cora. That's not necessary. I'll be alright." He kissed her hand again. "We'll be alright. I promise. Even if we have to go back to the old arrangement where we never had any time to ourselves." He looked down to where he held her hand, rubbing the back of it gently with his other hand.

Cora gazed at him, hearing in his tone and seeing in his countenance that this wasn't a complaint, simply a statement – one that made him sad. She attempted to lighten his mood a little, remarking, "You'll still have your naps in the barn while people think you're out on the estate. The stable boys seem to like the bit of extra income from their 'hush money.'"

Robert nodded, but didn't smile. "Yes. Helpful, but not everything I need." Looking up, he searched her eyes, repeating, "It's not everything I need."

Her eyes swam with tears now. Not of exhaustion or frustration, but of overwhelming emotion. He needed her. And she needed him.

Even if they had to steal a few hours every day.

Even if Perkins knew.

Taking a deep breath, Cora whispered, "Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if we had our afternoons together again. I wish my lady's maid didn't think so ill of me, but maybe we'll think of a way to remedy that. In the meantime, my love, let's resume our 'affair.' As you said yesterday, we aren't doing anything wrong. And I have to admit it was quite a lot easier to bear everything else, having those hours with you to myself every day." She smiled at him, pressing his hand.

Robert beamed. "Are you sure, Cora? I don't want you to be uncomfortable with the arrangement –"

Cora interrupted him by putting her lips to his. After a short interlude, Cora remarked, "Just don't rip anymore of my tea gowns, please?"

Chuckling, Robert nodded, then took her by the hand and led her into their bedroom, where little Lady Mary waited to be tucked in by Mama and Papa once more.


	4. Baby Edith

Over the next several days the family settled into something of a routine once more. Robert got to where he knew almost exactly when Mary would knock at their bedroom door at night and, knowing how Cora felt about it, would get up without a word and let her in. At least he didn't get kicked out of bed again for his trouble.

Edith's first tooth broke the surface during these days, and both her parents saw this as the light at the end of the tunnel. However, the baby still slept in their room until Cora was certain she would sleep through the night without pain, and so the couple kept their afternoon 'affair' going. They were more vigilant about being quiet, watching the clock, and fastening clothing carefully. Cora's encounters with Perkins eased a trifle, but the lady often wondered what her maid thought of her, for the two certainly weren't on the same friendly terms as they'd been only a week before.

Nevertheless, for Cora, being able to have the few hours a day alone with her husband made it all worthwhile.

After two nights of Edith sleeping comfortably, Cora decided they might try having her sleep in her nursery. She kept the decision as a surprise to tell Robert during their time together.

Robert sneaked into her bedroom that afternoon, grinning. He'd had a particularly restful nap in the barn.

Laughing, Cora stepped close to him. "You have straw in your hair, darling." She reached up and plucked the pieces of straw out of his curls, letting them fall to the floor when he captured her wrist in his hand and brought the delicate, porcelain underside of it to his lips, kissing it. Robert worked his way slowly up her arm, pushing the sleeve of the tea gown up to make way for his lips and tongue, leaving a trail of goose flesh in their wake. It always amazed Cora how sometimes the most gentle of her husband's touches left her most in danger of her knees buckling under her.

Unable to push her sleeve any higher, having reached the soft skin just above the inside of her elbow, Robert left off his attentions to her arm and turned them to her mouth, taking her hands and pulling them around his waist while kissing her intensely. Eventually he began moving from her lips to her jaw and then her neck, sucking the tender skin there just slightly, enough to make her sigh in delight.

"Robert?" she whispered, her eyes closed. "I have something to tell you."

Placing his hand just beneath her ear and moving it down, he slowly caressed the slender curve of her neck, before hooking his fingers beneath the neckline of her gown and gently tugging it toward her shoulder to give his mouth greater access to her neck and collar bone. "Yes, darling?" he murmured against her throat before continuing.

Tilting her head slightly back, Cora breathed, "I think Edith can sleep in her nursery tonight."

"Mmmmm…" Clearly, he was paying far more mind to what he was doing than to what she'd said. But after another few moments, Robert lifted his head to look at his wife. "Did you say what I think you just said?"

Cora nodded. "Edith will sleep in her nursery tonight."

Robert cocked his head, still uncertain about something. "And Mary?"

Shrugging, she replied, "I don't know. I suspect that once she sees that Edith is no longer in our room that she'll start sleeping in her own room again."

Sighing, Robert lowered his head and slumped forward, resting his forehead on his wife's shoulder. "What if she doesn't?" came his query.

"Robert," Cora said, withdrawing her arms from his waist and putting her hands on either side of his head, lifting it from her shoulder to look him in the eye. "We'll give her two nights at most. Then we will have to have a serious talk with her and insist she stay in her own room at night. We will lock her in with Nanny if we have to." Her eyes danced during this last sentence, so he would know she was being facetious.

Little could she know that Robert would seriously entertain this option if things got bad enough. Nevertheless, he nodded, the corners of his mouth turning up into a small smile. "Alright, sweetheart." He took her hands from his face and kissed them each in turn. "Now, where were we…?"

They quickly undressed one another, having become quite adept at this process over the past month, and Robert began his leisurely exploration of his wife's body with his mouth once more, inching them both over to the bed. Having reached both the bed and her abdomen, Robert helped Cora onto the bed, standing in front of her, his hands running along the insides of her thighs, then slipping underneath her, cupping her buttocks to lift her hips slightly. Then he bent at the waist.

Cora bit down on her lip to contain the cry of delight at feeling his mouth and tongue continue their worship of her body, closing her eyes and clutching at the bedclothes. Panting, she groaned low in her throat, attempting to keep quiet as he pushed her to the edge several times, stopping just short of pushing her over.

As she neared the edge a fourth time, she whispered hoarsely, "Robert, please…."

Robert knew from her tone and the way she writhed in his grasp that she was very ready for him. He climbed up on the bed with her and gently pulled her to the middle of it with him. Looking her in the eyes, searching them, he sought her assent.

"Please, now…." Cora pleaded, her eyes hazy with desire.

Pausing briefly to caress her cheek, Robert flipped her legs up and rested them against his shoulders, then lifted her hips once more to guide himself into her. Closing his eyes, he endeavored to swallow his own groan of satisfaction, then began moving.

Cora bit down on her lip once more as he built up a cadence, her hips rolling almost completely by instinct as she lost her ability to control her other faculties in her need to utilize her last remaining shred of coherence to keep quiet while her entire body rocked with pleasure.

Breathing heavily, Robert managed to hold out through feeling her contract around him three times before everything went hazy and he thrust into her one last time with a grunt and stilled against her. For several minutes he remained nearly motionless, one hand running up and down the back of Cora's left thigh lazily, looking down into her flushed face, knowing the pleased grin he saw there matched his own.

Then, realizing it might become uncomfortable to have his weight pressing down upon her legs, he pulled away and lay her legs out upon the bed. He stretched out next to her and kissed her cheek and then her lips.

Propping his up head in his hand, he glanced at the clock, then back at Cora, brushing his fingertips over her cheek, whispering. "Do you think I could just hold you a little while now? We have plenty of time left."

Still panting slightly, Cora nodded and smiled. "I would like that very much," was her whispered answer.

Drawing a blanket up over them, Robert wrapped his arms around his wife and held her, her head resting on his shoulder, one of her legs stretched out across his. Within minutes her steady breathing told him she was asleep. He chuckled inwardly and, although he could have easily followed suit, willed himself to be the sentinel, to make sure they kept to their time.

What Robert hadn't anticipated was for Cora to jerk awake after a quarter of an hour to a horrible shrieking. They looked at one another, equally perplexed, as the noise got louder, approaching their door. Then there was a knock.

"Lady Grantham, please, it's Miss Walters," came a voice loud enough to be heard through the screeching and the door.

"Robert, quick – go!" Cora bounded up and rushed over to pull her chemise over her head, kicking the rest of her clothes into a pile on her side of the bed, grabbing her dressing gown and wrapping it around her. "Just another minute, Nurse Walters!" she yelled as Robert hastened to gather his own clothes, pausing to kiss his wife quickly on the lips before disappearing behind his dressing room door, pulling it closed as silently as he could.

Cora opened the door to her room. "Miss Walters, what is the matter with her?" She reached for the red-faced, screaming baby Edith, resting her against her shoulder and bouncing her gently.

The woman shook her head. "I believe she has an earache, your ladyship. I've been trying to calm her, but it's no use. If I may, Lady Grantham, might I suggest we send for the doctor? He may have something to soothe her."

"Yes, yes, please, let's send for him. Will you take care of that for me, Nurse Walters? I'll keep Edith here with me while you do." She pressed her lips to the baby's head, bouncing her still, trying to hush her with a "shh shh shh shh, little darling."

Miss Walters nodded, "Yes, of course, your ladyship." She tilted her head, hesitating. "Did something happen, Lady Grantham?"

Cora looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Your lip is bleeding, your ladyship," she informed her.

Touching her lip, Cora withdrew her fingers to see that they were indeed stained faintly with blood. "It's nothing. I had a bad dream and must have bit my lip in my sleep," she lied smoothly.

Nodding once more, Miss Walters said, "I'll send for the doctor now, Lady Grantham."

"Thank you, Miss Walters." Cora closed the door behind her and pulled a handkerchief out of her dressing gown pocket and put it to her lip, continuing to shush Edith. Finally, the baby calmed to half her original volume, which was enough for Cora to be able to hear her own thoughts properly once more. She went to the dressing room door and knocked on it. "Robert?"

Opening the door a crack and peeking his head out, he asked in a hushed voice, "Is the coast clear?"

Cora sat on the chaise with Edith, changing the bouncing to a rocking motion that seemed to pacify her somewhat, for her crying lessened further. "For the time being."

Robert walked in half-dressed and sat beside her on the chaise. "What's wrong with her? I tried to listen but she was so loud I couldn't hear you talking through the door." He placed a hand on the back of the baby's head, rubbing her short red curls gently.

"Nurse Walters thinks it's an earache, Robert." Cora sighed. "It means she'll be sleeping in here with us again. For the next few days at the very least."

Her husband nodded, his hand still on Edith's head. "I know. I remember this with Mary." He looked at Cora. "I'll be here with you, my love. You won't have to do it alone."

Tears threatened to fall. Instead of complaining or sighing or trying to give night duty to the nurse, as she fully expected him to do, he said exactly what she needed to hear from him. Cora gazed at him lovingly, whispering, "Thank you, my dearest." She blinked a few times, willing herself not to cry. "You should finish getting dressed now, so you can be gone before Miss Walters returns."

Nodding again, Robert stood and kissed the top of the baby's head, started to lean over to kiss his wife, but stopped. "Cora? What happened to your lip?"

Cora gave him a weary smile. "I was trying so hard not to make noise earlier, when we were…. I bit my lip so I wouldn't cry out. Apparently I bit down more than I realized."

"Oh," he said, before leaning forward again and pressing a feather-light kiss to her bottom lip, then a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll see you in a little while, sweetheart." He retired to his dressing room, leaving Cora to wait for the nurse's return.

* * *

Perkins eyed the pile of clothes on the bed. Lady Grantham had sent for her to help her dress for the doctor's arrival, and the lady's maid had been rather surprised to find her mistress in quite this state of undress, wearing only her chemise and dressing gown. It made her heart ache, knowing what she knew, thinking that Lord Grantham must have said nothing to his wife – or, worse, that he had and Lady Grantham persisted with the affair.

However, she said nothing to her ladyship, assisting her in silence, then clearing things away after her mistress left for the nursery.

Making one last inspection of the room, Perkins spotted something on the rug. Picking it up, she shook her head. It looked like straw. _How did that get in here?_ she wondered. _I suppose whoever has been coming in here from the outside tracked it in._ Tutting under her breath, she tucked the straw into her pocket and left the room.

* * *

The doctor confirmed that Lady Edith had an earache and that there was very little to be done except to keep her as comfortable as possible. Keeping her upright would alleviate some of the pain for her and help her sleep, but it also meant that she would have to be almost constantly held.

It was a formula for quite a lot of sleeplessness.

And so it proved to be. For the next several nights, Cora and Robert took it in turns to hold Edith while she slept, so each of them could get at least a few hours of sleep. Cora hadn't actually expected this; it had been a pleasant surprise. That first night she had been endeavoring to think of a way to keep something warm over Edith's ear while she slept – damp washcloths tending to grow cold too quickly – but the baby's shrieks made her incapable of rational thought, and she found herself close to tears.

Robert, seeing this, rang downstairs, then told the answering maid to bring up a hot water bottle.

"Darling, it's too big to hold over her ear," Cora nearly sobbed out, exhaustion threatening to overwhelm her.

Walking over to them, Robert kissed her temple. "Just wait and see. And I want you to get some sleep too. Hand her to me, Cora."

As much as she trusted her husband regarding most things, Cora hesitated to give Edith to him. But, after another minute of the baby screaming in her ear, the mother was ready to try anything and passed their daughter to Robert.

Cora climbed into bed as a knock came at the door. "Thank you," Robert said to the maid and took the hot water bottle. Sitting up against the pillows on his side of the bed, he held a still screeching Edith on one shoulder and balanced the hot water bottle carefully on his other. "Sweetheart, will you hand me that thin blanket there on the other side of you, please?" Cora complied, watching him. Robert draped the blanket over the hot water bottle and his shoulder, then shifted the baby, laying her upright against his chest, her head and aching ear upon the hot water bottle. Within seconds she'd calmed down, putting one of her little hands on her papa's neck, her eyelids drooping and her breaths becoming even. In a few moments she was asleep.

Half in disbelief and half in awe, Cora gaped at her husband.

Grinning, Robert turned to her with a little chuckle, whispering, "You needn't look so incredulous, Cora. Now, please, get some sleep. I have a feeling another little girl will be making her appearance as usual in a few hours."

Nodding dumbly, Cora tucked herself beneath the blankets and fell asleep even faster than Edith had.

Sure enough, like clockwork, Mary's knock came at the door exactly when Robert expected it. Supporting Edith with both hands, he got out of bed and opened the door for his eldest. Mary sauntered in without a word, but looked daggers at the baby in her papa's arms. Robert followed her over to the bed, helping her climb in with one hand, holding the still blessedly sleeping Edith with the other.

"Mary," he whispered as softly as possible. "You're going to have to be very quiet and go right to sleep if you can. I don't want you to wake Mama or the baby."

"Why are you holding _her_?" The little girl's whisper was accusatory.

Robert sighed heavily. "Edith isn't feeling well, Mary, and she can't sleep unless one of us holds her. Your mama needs to sleep too, so I'm holding the baby while she does. Now, if you're not going to go to sleep now, I'll have to send you back to your room."

Mary shook her head vehemently, her brown eyes widening with trepidation. "No, Papa," she whispered loudly. "I'll go right to sleep, I promise."

Sitting on the bed next to her, Robert kissed her on the cheek. "Goodnight, my dear Mary."

Sliding her arms around his neck to embrace him, Mary jostled the baby, waking her. Edith screamed.

Mary immediately clapped her hands to her ears and yelled, "Papa, I didn't do it on purpose!"

Cora sat up and rubbed her eyes. She took in the situation and sighed. "Robert, give her to me. Is the bottle still warm?"

Passing her the shrieking baby, Robert felt the water bottle. "It's warm, but it won't be much longer. I'll go down and get another one." He helped Cora arrange the hot water bottle on her shoulder, although it didn't work quite as well since her shoulders were so much smaller. Finally they got it balanced and the blanket draped over it. Edith didn't seem to find as much relief from it as she had when it was warmer, however.

"I'll be back in just a while, Cora," he said, his eyes apologetic for leaving her with the crying baby.

"Papaaaa! Take me with you!" Mary stood up in the middle of the bed, her hands still planted firmly over her ears.

Tying his dressing gown shut and slipping his feet into his bedroom shoes, Robert rolled his eyes and caught Mary up in his arms, carrying her with him out the door.

"Papa, baby Edith is _so loud_," Mary observed unhelpfully while her papa carried her downstairs.

"Well, Mary, you do have the option of staying in your own room. It's quiet there." At his request the servants had left the hallways lit dimly in case they needed to get something from the kitchens; he was happy now that he'd thought of this.

Mary appeared to think about this for a minute. "But the water bottle will make her quiet again, won't it?"

"I certainly hope so, my dear. For all of our sakes." Robert rubbed his forehead.

Sneaking her arms around his neck, Mary placed a wet kiss on his cheek. "Then I will stay with you and Mama." When they entered the kitchen, Robert put Mary down on the table, filling the kettle to heat water, then locating a second hot water bottle in which to pour it when it was ready. Mary watched him thoughtfully, her short legs swinging off the edge of the table. "Papa, are you tired?"

Robert peered at his little daughter with bleary eyes. "Mary, Papa is so far beyond tired that he doesn't know _what_ he is anymore."

Mary screwed up her eyes and shook her head. "I don't know what that means, Papa."

Laughing lightly, Robert passed a hand over his bristly chin. "Yes, Mary, Papa is tired. Very tired indeed."

Preparing the hot water bottle, he carried it and his daughter back upstairs. He aided Cora in adjusting the new water bottle and the baby against it, Edith finally falling back to sleep. He had offered to stay up with her longer but Cora insisted on taking her turn, having had several hours of decent sleep – thanks to him, as she pointed out.

Too fatigued to argue with her, Robert pulled the covers over himself and lay his head down on the pillow. "Papa, I'm tired too," Mary whispered loudly, crawling under the covers next to him. Robert put his arm around his little girl. "Goodnight, Mama," she said closing her eyes.

"Goodnight, Mama," Robert echoed softly, smiling at his wife before closing his own eyes and drifting off.

* * *

The next five nights fell into a similar pattern, the four getting increasingly cranky for numerous and varying reasons – lack of decent sleep being the obvious reason shared by all.

Robert and Cora, however, had had to go back to having no time alone together. Edith's feeding schedule had gotten off because of her earache, and Cora never knew when Miss Walters would bring the baby to her to nurse. Robert took the time to nap a little longer in the barn, but it wasn't always very good sleep, and the interrupted nights wore on him. Worse for him, though, was how much he missed being alone with his wife. He barely found a moment just to hold her.

Cora slept whenever she could and as much as she could. She knew that if she didn't sleep enough, she wouldn't be able to nurse Edith properly. Robert possessed this knowledge as well, and he tended to let Cora sleep as long as possible, even though she often admonished him for not waking her earlier so she could take an equal turn holding Edith upright.

He did his best not to allow his weariness to translate into irascibility or complaints, although it was difficult not to. He snapped at Mary during their lessons the morning after the sixth night of this. He'd fallen asleep as she was telling him a story, and she stamped her foot in frustration. "Are you not listening to me?" she cried out. He didn't move. "PAPA!" she yelled.

Robert's eyes popped open. "Mary! Don't shout at me like that ever again!" he bellowed.

Chin wobbling, Mary stared at him. "You weren't listening to me! You fell asleep because – because of _that baby_!" Bursting into tears, she ran from the room, calling plaintively for her nanny.

Dropping his head into his hands, Robert heaved a great sigh. "Bloody hell," he muttered.

The good news that day was that Edith's earache appeared to be gone. She had slept completely through the night, not needing a new hot water bottle at all. When Miss Walters and Cora determined that she was on her regular feeding schedule again and seemed to be napping comfortably in her own crib, they agreed to try her in her own nursery that night.

In celebration, Cora and Robert fell asleep holding one another. And when Mary knocked on their door as usual, they tucked her between them, shared a long kiss over her head, and gazed at each other lovingly in the soft glow of the one nightlight left burning until a deep slumber fell over them both.


	5. Perkins Redux

The next afternoon Perkins climbed the stairs to put some linens away. As she approached Lady Grantham's bedroom, she noticed a tiny figure standing there holding a large piece of paper.

"Lady Mary?" Perkins stopped next to her. "Where is your nanny?"

The little girl lifted her face to the lady's maid, tears falling, her brown eyes wide with fear. "She's in my nursery. I came to give this drawing to Mama, but she won't come to the door. I think someone is hurting her." Her voice trembled. "I can hear her."

Perkins passed over the fact that Lady Mary most likely eluded her nanny and escaped from her room to bring the drawing to her mother and, instead, stood still to listen. Sure enough, high pitched squeaks and sharp cries of what sounded like pain could be heard through the door.

Snapping into action, Perkins bent down and looked the child in the eye. "Lady Mary, I want you to please go back to your nursery and stay with your nanny. I will come and tell you if anything is wrong with your mama."

Mary nodded, responding to the maid's tone, a mixture of urgency, concern, and authority. She turned and went down the hallway back to her room.

As soon as she saw that Lady Mary had gone into her nursery and heard the door shut, she deposited the linens upon a hall chair and listened another moment at the door, to be sure of what she heard. Perkins was hardly one to simply walk into her ladyship's room in the middle of the time she'd explicitly requested to be left alone. Hearing the yelps of pain, convinced that her ladyship must be hurt and needed assistance, the lady's maid drew herself up, grasped the doorknob, and opened the door.

The sight that met her was not at all what she'd expected. Stopping short, she felt her breath catch in her throat and color spread from her neck into her cheeks and ears.

Her ladyship had her back against the opposite wall, her head tilted back and her eyes shut tight, her visage radiant with perspiration and blatant delight. The man's face was hidden from view, nestled in the curve of Lady Grantham's throat. One of his hands was twisted in her hair, and the other supported her leg, holding it up just above the knee and pressing it against the wall. Her ladyship's nails raked down his shoulder blades and one arm snaked up around him to clasp him tighter to her, her fingers playing with the dark hair at the nape of his neck. Both were as naked as they would have been in Eden.

Perkins knew she should look away, but she couldn't. Standing silently in the doorway, holding her breath, she watched raptly, captivated. She was unable to tear her eyes away from them: the contrast of her porcelain fairness to his much darker skin tone; the way her hair tumbled over his shoulders; the tender touch of her fingers upon his neck; the ripple of muscle across his back; and the exultant expression on her ladyship's countenance. She was fascinated by the steady flex of his buttocks with each of his thrusts. And the mystery of the high-pitched cries and yelps was solved, for with each of these thrusts, there was an answering noise from Lady Grantham, whether it be a squeak or groan or sigh.

Color heightening, Perkins placed her hand on her throat. She'd never seen anything like this before, and she knew the image would be burned into her brain for the rest of her days. But she wasn't sure she minded. No matter what complications came with it, no matter the identity of her ladyship's paramour, the scene in front of her was… beautiful.

In the next moment, the man moved his head, and it looked to Perkins as if he was slowly, softly kissing along her ladyship's collarbone. As he traveled to her shoulder with his attentions, his profile became visible, and Perkins let out an involuntary squeak of surprise.

The man, Lady Grantham's lover, was his lordship.

Perkins covered her mouth too late. Her ladyship must have heard her or sensed someone watching, because she opened her eyes and looked directly at her lady's maid standing beside the open door. The lady's eyes widened and both women blushed, although Perkins hadn't known she could blush anymore than she already had been.

Instead of saying or doing anything to draw his lordship's attention to the fact that they had an audience, Lady Grantham closed her eyes once more, letting out an incredible, unrestrained cry of utter bliss. Perkins' breath caught again, suddenly aware that her ladyship _couldn't_ say or do anything. Still unable to stop gaping at the pair in the throes of passion, she backed quietly out of the room, closing the door silently behind her.

Leaning against the wall for support, Perkins realized that she had been holding her breath nearly the whole time she'd been in the room. She took several deep breaths to steady herself, replaying the scene in her head.

Shaking herself, she remembered that she had told Lady Mary she would report back to her what might be the matter with her mother. She started off to the little girl's nursery, to relay to her that her mama was unharmed, that everything was alright.

Perkins smiled as she walked down the hallway, relieved. Because everything _was_ alright.

* * *

When Cora opened her eyes again, Perkins was gone and the door shut. Robert still pushed into her, a sort of primal desire overtaking him. Cora closed her eyes, giving herself over to the sensations he evoked, forgetting her lady's maid completely.

It had been so many days since they were together in this manner that when Robert had entered the room, he'd said not a word, simply captured her lips in a heated kiss and ripped the tea gown open at the seams, groping at her layers of underclothing to free her of them, tearing his own clothing off as well. He pressed her against him desperately, needing to feel her skin next to his, running his hands along her body in a way that gave her chills of the very best kind.

When he'd pushed her up against the wall – not exactly roughly, but most certainly with a sense of determination – she'd gasped out, "Robert!" in some astonishment. He'd slid his hand under her lower thigh and lifted it up, his arousal stiff against her abdomen. He paused to look her in the eyes, to gain her consent as he always did, but she could tell that he could barely breathe for his need to feel her around him. "Yes," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him to her, to kiss him and slip her tongue into his mouth as he slipped into her.

Cora gave up trying to be quiet. She'd needed him as much as he'd needed her, and the way he drove into her simply caused all thought to vanish from her head. She could only feel, and she couldn't keep a damper on how exceptionally wonderful he was _making_ her feel.

After a little while, there had been the noise, and Cora had looked up, and there was Perkins. Perkins who thought her mistress was having an affair. She'd had it wrong – and yet so very right. Cora had shared a glance with her lady's maid, and, in that moment, the countess thought she had sensed… understanding? Relief? Longing? Admiration? Possibly a combination of all these things? Despite her blush, Cora thought that Perkins was not actually embarrassed, at least not by their actions. Perhaps by catching them in the act, but not about what she had caught.

And then… then Robert had gotten her to a new height of pleasure and she couldn't help herself. It didn't matter that Perkins was watching. It didn't matter that she stood in front of an open door. Cora's eyes closed and her voice cried out of its own accord.

When she'd opened them again, they were alone. Robert continued, blissfully unaware that they'd had a visitor, and Cora put it out of her mind. It was something to deal with later, when his hand wasn't running over her body and finding its way between their joining to help her over the edge once more, so he could finally follow her there.

* * *

Taking a cup of tea into her room, Perkins sat down, still in a bit of a daze. She stared straight ahead of her, having an absent-minded sip of tea every few minutes until she just held the empty cup and saucer in her hand.

What she had seen had struck her as marvelous and given her a thorough sense of relief that the love between lord and lady she'd felt such a need to protect was safe. Now that she possessed this information – who her ladyship was secretly meeting in the afternoons – the pieces began to fall into place. Perkins saw his lordship far less than she saw her mistress, but, thinking over the past month, she recalled seeing the same sort of satisfied smirk upon his face before tea, one matching his wife's. And they would make eyes at each other these days as well.

She also rarely had an audience alone with Lord Grantham, but when she had gone to tell him her conclusions…. She recognized now that his red face and streaming eyes, the strangled noises issuing from his throat – he'd been laughing. Or endeavoring not to. Because he knew the truth.

Perkins suspected that if she'd dared to stand close enough his cologne would have smelled familiar.

Remembering that meeting again, the lady's maid grew apprehensive. Lord Grantham found that funny, but perhaps her ladyship wouldn't. What Perkins had believed of her ladyship…. _Oh,God_, she thought, her hand loosening its hold on the saucer, cup and saucer hitting the floor with a _crack_, her hand flying to her mouth.

She'd assumed the worst of her mistress and told her husband her – not utterly mistaken, but certainly flawed – conclusions. Not only that, but she had walked in on them, witnessing a private, intimate part of their lives, something not meant for anyone else's eyes.

Perkins wouldn't blame Lady Grantham if she decided to sack her.

Heart pounding, Perkins picked up the cracked cup and saucer and walked back into the servants' hall to await her ladyship's summons, staring at the bell with a combination of anticipation to see what would happen and dread at what she feared might happen.

* * *

After Nurse Walters left with baby Edith, ringing for Perkins on her way out, Cora rested on her chaise, waiting. She wasn't sure what she would say to her lady's maid when she got there. She blushed thinking about what Perkins had seen, but she couldn't help feeling thankful for the incident as well. It was certainly one way of proving to her maid that she wasn't entertaining another man in her bedroom.

At Perkins' light knock, Cora bade her enter. When she did, the two women couldn't manage to do more than stare at one another for several minutes.

Then Perkins stepped closer to her mistress, opening and closing her mouth a few times before finally asking, "My lady, might I have permission to speak plainly?"

Cora nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on the maid's face.

Looking down at her hands, which she wrung in front of her nervously, Perkins began to speak. "Lady Grantham, I owe you an apology. Several apologies, in fact. I wonder if Lord Grantham told you of our meeting." Perkins flicked her eyes up to see her ladyship's second nod, which she'd expected. The lady's maid gave her own nod, gazing at her hands again. "I was mistaken, my lady, sorely mistaken about you, and I'm sorry for it. And even more sorry for telling his lordship what I was thinking." She took a deep breath.

"Yes? Go on." Cora spoke for the first time, her voice soft and encouraging.

Perkins lifted her eyes to meet her ladyship's once more, going crimson. "And I apologize for walking in earlier." She colored even more, saying, "And for…for staying." She cast her eyes to the floor, trembling, brick red.

Cora blushed as well, but her forehead was puckered in confusion. "Perkins? Why _did_ you walk in? Did you think you'd caught me?" Her tone wasn't angry, merely curious.

The maid's head jerked up abruptly in shock. "Certainly not, my lady! I would never do that. It's not my place."

"Then I apologize to you for thinking that might have been the reason." Still baffled, she went on, "But – why did you, then?"

"I found Lady Mary outside your door, my lady. She thought you were being hurt, and it certainly sounded like you were." Perkins held her head up high. "Whatever I might have thought of you, my lady, I would never want you to be hurt. I sent Lady Mary to her nursery and, er – " pausing, she went even redder, "opened the door to make sure you were alright."

Cora began to see why her husband had been so amused by her lady's maid in their meeting before. She was so forthright and concerned – and mistaken, as she'd admitted. It was strangely touching, and at the same time humorous. It was simply impossible to be offended by her.

Mouth twitching, Cora's eyes lit up with mirth. "Perkins," she said, clearing her throat a bit, "how long _were_ you standing there?" She endeavored to keep a straight face.

Perkins blinked rapidly. "I don't rightly know, to be honest, my lady." She didn't think she'd ever been so embarrassed in her life.

"Long enough to know for certain that my 'lover' is my husband?" One of her eyebrows arched up.

By this point, Perkins could do no more than nod, still wringing her hands together, her eyes wide and face flushed. Then an awful thought crossed her mind, and she blurted out in a voice laced with alarm, "Does his lordship know I was here?" Her whole body tensed, her hands stilling.

Cora could see how the very idea mortified Perkins, and she hastened to reassure her. "No, he doesn't know. And he won't know. At least, he won't hear it from me." Continuing to stifle her amusement proved impossible now, and Cora began to giggle.

It was Perkins turn to be confounded. "My lady? Are you quite alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." She clutched her stomach, wiped her eyes, and endeavored to catch her breath. "It's just – don't you find it at all funny?"

Perkins peered at her mistress, unsure whether to be worried or relieved. "I suppose I was concentrating on the fact that you have more than enough grounds for my dismissal, my lady. And I wouldn't protest at all if you decided to act on it."

Cora finally got herself under control and smiled warmly at her lady's maid. "Perkins, I could have dismissed you before. But I didn't want to. I like you, and how often does one find a lady's maid one actually _likes_? What I hated was the tension and wondering what you must have thought of me." Now it was Cora who looked down at her hands.

"My lady, I –" Perkins didn't know what to say, except to repeat her apology. "I truly am sorry. There was just the evidence…. and I still don't understand about the straw on the floor, or how Lord Grantham got in here unseen… or _why_ you needed to keep a secret in the first place…" She shut her mouth with a snap, blanching, realizing that she might be trespassing upon her ladyship's goodwill by wondering about any of these things. It wasn't her place. None of it was her place.

Meeting Perkins' eyes, Cora merely nodded. "I can see how it would look, Perkins. We didn't think anyone would ever know. I didn't count on a detective for a lady's maid." Cora smiled at her teasingly.

Perkins held her breath, unsure what to say to this.

Cora didn't know why, but she felt an odd inclination to satisfy the maid's curiosity on the matter. "We decided to meet in the afternoons because it was the only time we could come up with to be alone. Lady Mary has been so needy lately, and if she'd known her papa wasn't on the estate, she would have demanded he spend the time with her. But we needed – need – our own time together." She chuckled. "The straw was stuck in his lordship's hair. He naps in the barn after luncheon. I'll have to tell his lordship that the stable boys are keeping their end of the bargain in staying quiet." Cora chuckled again. "And there is a secret passage into the house that he and Lady Rosamund found in their childhood. He's been using that to get in and out without being seen."

Nodding dumbly, astonished that her mistress would disclose all this to her after how she had behaved, Perkins stood there, still uncertain what to do or say next, afraid it would be the wrong thing.

"Now, Perkins, I suggest that we put all this behind us. I only ask three things of you." Cora's face was serious now.

Perkins' heart leaped up. She wasn't going to be dismissed. "Anything, my lady. Anything at all."

"First of all, help us keep our secret? And any future secrets we have to keep?" Cora smiled. "It might be useful having someone help us, actually." She laughed lightly.

Smiling back at her, Perkins agreed. "Certainly, Lady Grantham. The second thing?"

Cora stood up and walked over to the bed. Perkins noticed for the first time since she walked in that Lady Grantham wore her dressing gown over her chemise and petticoats.

Blushing, Cora held up the tea gown so Perkins could see the ripped seams. "Might you repair this for me? We may have gotten a little carried away, not having been, um, alone for almost a week because of the baby's earache…." Cora blushed harder as the maid surveyed the damage, coloring again herself, remembering the intensity of what she'd seen earlier.

And Perkins couldn't suppress a grin, try though she might. "Yes, my lady. The fabric appears intact; I simply need to sew the seams closed." She paused, still looking at the gown, then asked, "Lady Grantham, might I venture to ask a somewhat impertinent question?"

Cora giggled. "Might as well."

Lifting her head, she looked at her ladyship, her eyebrows raised. "Does this sort of thing happen often?" She'd meant the damage to the gowns, but flushed when she heard her own question, knowing it sounded like much more than that.

Laughing, Cora rolled her eyes. "His lordship _had_ gotten better about that, Perkins." She blushed once more, remembering other episodes. "It may happen again, I won't lie."

Perkins lowered her eyes, grinning, suddenly happy that she'd been wrong and that everything was fine. Putting the gown aside, she looked up. "And the third thing, my lady."

Cora's countenance became solemn. "It's obvious that you've got a head on your shoulders, Perkins, and Lord Grantham are at our wits' ends here. Might you please help us figure out what to do with Lady Mary? I'm not sure how much more of her nightly visits we can take!" Her voice pleaded, laced with frustration and exhaustion.

Giving her a soft smile, Perkins allowed herself the liberty of placing a comforting hand over her ladyship's. "Of course I will, my lady."

Letting out a deep breath, Cora's face – her whole body – relaxed. "It's a relief to enlist some aid here, Perkins. With the three of us working on it, I know we'll solve the problem."

Perkins removed her hand, then stood up straighter. "Now that that's settled, my lady, might we get you ready for tea?"

Cora smiled at her. It was nice to have a confidante.


	6. End of the Affair

Perkins carried her afternoon cup of tea into her room and settled down with Lady Grantham's ripped tea gown. Working with nimble hands and fingers, the lady's maid sewed neat, tight stitches into the fabric. Chuckling, she wondered if she should make the stitches stronger, and therefore more difficult to rip, or weaker, which would spare the fragile and expensive fabric if Lord Grantham decided the seams simply would not prove a barrier to him. At this thought, she blushed, remembering the scene from three afternoons ago, and almost pricked her finger. Mentally shaking herself, she went back to the tasks at hand.

Ordinarily, Perkins would have done such work in the servants' hall, but she had three specific reasons not to for this task. Every one matched up with the three requests her mistress had made of her. First of all, she didn't want the other servants asking questions about why this gown had such extensive damage. Perkins never liked to lie, and she refused to disclose any part of the secret of her employers' "affair." So she worked quietly in her room on the second request of her ladyship's: to mend the damaged tea gown.

The quiet proved incredibly useful in wrestling with the third request, that of helping come up with a solution to the problem of Lady Mary's nightly visits to her parents' bedroom. Nurse Walters reported that baby Edith slept comfortably through the night now, but little Lady Mary appeared to decide that since the baby was out of the way, she could spend more time with them. She knocked on their door earlier each night and would not allow them to sleep.

Lady Grantham looked particularly frazzled when she spoke to Perkins after luncheon. It motivated the lady's maid to think harder than before on a solution. She'd taken to listening to Lady Mary's nanny surreptitiously at meals and observing the little girl even closer, in hopes of finding the key to solving the problem.

Sewing and tea tended to aid in Perkins' ratiocination, and, as she was finishing the last seam in the tea gown, she had an epiphany. A slow smile crossed her face while she sat there, placing the final stitches and working out the details of the plan.

* * *

Perkins met Cora with a wide smile, holding up the perfectly mended tea gown.

"I knew I could count on you, Perkins!" Cora ran her fingers along the seams happily.

"And – there's more good news, my lady. I think I know how to keep Lady Mary in her room at night." She put the gown away and began helping her ladyship dress for tea.

Cora's eyes lit up. "Really? Oh, you are a lifesaver. Do tell!"

Dressing for tea took longer than usual as the two went over the intricacies of the plan, discussing possible scenarios and problems together, getting it fixed in Cora's head so she could tell Robert about it later.

Usually Cora would be ready for tea first, so eventually Robert rapped at the dividing door, wondering what was taking so long. "Cora, is everything alright?"

"Robert, come in, darling," she sang out while Perkins tidied the room and gathered garments for the laundry.

Entering, Robert smiled at his wife and walked over to her dressing table to drop a kiss on her forehead. "You look very nice, sweetheart."

Cora grinned back at him. "Thank you. I have so much to tell you, but it will have to be later. Mary will be livid if we're not there soon."

Looking around, Robert noticed Perkins standing there, staring at him openly, her face faintly flushed and her eyes bright, her countenance unreadable.

"Perkins? Are you alright?" His brows drew together in confusion.

Her eyes flicked briefly to her mistress, and her face colored even more. Perkins said hastily, "Yes, your lordship, quite well. I will just, er…. Excuse me, my lady."

Robert thought he saw Perkins cover her mouth and her eyes crinkle with gaiety before she disappeared around the door with the laundry.

He turned to Cora, still perplexed. "What was that all about?"

Cora realized that it was probably the first time Perkins had seen her husband since the day she caught them together. She giggled. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. The good news is that she has come up with a plan for getting Mary to stay in her room." Cora had told Robert a few days ago that Perkins knew that he was her "lover." She had not mentioned how she knew, only that their secret was safe with the lady's maid, and that she'd enlisted her help with their current problem.

Taking her hand and kissing it, he grinned at her. "That's very good news, darling. I can't wait to hear all about it. However, you're quite right; Mary will be anything but amused if we are much later. You'll tell me all about it after dinner."

* * *

Cora and Perkins decided that Robert would be the obvious person to enact their scheme to keep Lady Mary in her room. Mary barely knew Perkins, and she tended to only listen to her mama if Papa reinforced what she said.

Therefore, during lessons the next day, Robert dragged Mary's toddler chair over to face his own chair. He sat down and said, "Mary, Papa needs to talk to you about something very important." He pointed to her chair with his hand.

Mary made herself comfortable across from her father. "Yes, Papa?"

Robert leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together so he would be on eye-level with the little girl. "Now, Mary, your baby sister has been sleeping in her own room for almost a week now. But you are still sleeping with Mama and Papa." He looked at her very seriously. "Mama and I have been talking about this, and we are going to have Nurse Walters look after you, and Nanny will take care of Edith."

Several seconds passed before the implications of this registered with Mary. Her brown eyes widened. "Why, Papa?"

"Well, Mary, babies are the ones who need nurses, and big girls have nannies. And big girls stay in their own room at night while babies sleep in their Mama and Papa's room," he pointed out to her in a very rational way.

Mary's mouth dropped open and her eyes filled with tears. "But I don't want Nurse Walters, Papa; I don't like her. I want Nanny."

Robert hid his grin, not wanting to spoil the plan. His daughter was acting exactly as Perkins had predicted. The lady's maid had observed that Lady Mary had a great deal of hostility toward Miss Walters and had ventured to hypothesize that his daughter saw the nurse as in league with "the enemy," associating her with the baby.

On the other hand, Lady Mary had Nanny wrapped around her little finger. She would not want to give her up for anything.

"No, Mary. As of tomorrow, you will have Nurse Walters. Edith will have Nanny. Babies who stay with their parents at night need nurses," he reiterated.

"But, Papa! I'm _not_ a baby! I'm a big girl!" Her lower lip quivered. "I just want to sleep in your room!"

Robert shook his head. "You're not acting like a big girl, Mary. Mama and Papa need their sleep, and Edith is letting them. You're not."

Mary stood up abruptly and appeared as if she were about to stamp her feet, tears beginning to crawl down her cheeks, her face becoming red.

Her father stood as well, towering over her, becoming even more earnest. "Mary Josephine Crawley! Another thing babies do is have tantrums. If you're going to throw a tantrum I will go right now and arrange for your nanny and Edith's nurse to be switched." He made as if to leave the room.

"Papa! Don't! Please! I'll be a big girl, I promise! I'll sleep in my own room!" She exclaimed this loudly and insistently at his back. She balled her fists up by her sides, but she didn't stamp her feet. Tears coursed down her cheeks, but she didn't sob. Her face was red and her voice shrill, but she didn't scream.

Slowly Robert turned back to her. "Are you sure, Mary? Because if you knock on the door to Mama and Papa's room tonight, you _will_ have Nurse Walters instead of Nanny come morning."

Sniffling and starting to hiccup with the effort of keeping her temper, Mary nodded. "Yes, Papa," she said clearly and as calmly as she could manage.

"Do you understand why, Mary? Why you have to stay in your room?" He returned to his chair and sat down, marveling to himself at how well this seemed to be working, but still eyeing his little daughter askance.

Nodding again, Mary met his gaze. "Because only babies stay with their parents all the time at night. And because you and Mama need to sleep too." Wiping at her eyes, Mary's brows drew together in a frown. "But, Papa, what if I have another nightmare?"

Robert reached out and took his daughter's hand in his. "Mary, have you been having nightmares still?" He asked this with genuine concern.

Little Lady Mary shook her head slowly. "No, Papa. I haven't. Not since baby Edith had her earache."

"Oh, darling, why did you keep coming into our room?" Robert wondered if it was for the reason Perkins had postulated, she already having guessed the girl no longer had nightmares.

Mary looked down and said in a small voice, "Because I liked having you and Mama to myself. Without _that baby_."

"Mary, come here to Papa." When she stepped closer to him, he lifted her up and sat her upon his knee. "I want you to know, Mary, that you are not being replaced, nor do Mama and I love you any less than we did before Edith was born. We have room in our hearts for both of you. And we will have time for both of you. Do you understand?"

Nodding slowly once more, Mary traced a finger along her father's hand, her eyes following her finger.

"Mary," he said gently, "remember the other day when Papa fell asleep during your lessons?"

"Yes, Papa." She looked up at him now.

Robert smiled tenderly at her. "I want to be able to give you my full attention when we're together, little darling, but I can't when you won't let Mama and I sleep at night. Do you understand that too?"

"I understand, Papa. I'm sorry. I'll sleep in my own room so you and Mama can sleep. And..." she took a deep breath, "…I can keep Nanny?"

Chuckling lightly, Robert responded, "Yes, Mary. You can keep Nanny. But remember what I said about acting like a baby. I _will_ give you Miss Walters if you can't behave as a big girl should."

"Yes, Papa." Mary gave him a smile and kissed him on the cheek. "May we read my favorite book again? I want to see if I can read it on my own."

"Of course we can, Mary." Robert put her down and sighed to himself in relief, hoping that it would really work.

* * *

Having readied her mistress for bed several hours before, Perkins brought a stack of linens upstairs to put away in a hall closet. As she made her way down the hall, she saw the tiny figure of Lady Mary standing halfway between her parents' room and her own. When she got closer, Perkins observed the wrinkle upon little girl's brow and guessed that she was torn between two courses of action.

Becoming aware of someone's presence, Mary lifted her head, fixing Perkins with a guilty glance.

"Lady Mary? Shouldn't you be in bed?" Perkins asked gently.

The girl ignored this question to ask one of her own. "Do you think that only babies sleep in their mama and papa's rooms at night?" Lady Mary frowned.

Perkins knelt down carefully in front of the tiny brown-eyed girl in her stark white nightgown. "I think that babies don't know any better, but that grown girls can think for themselves, Lady Mary."

Mary shook her head slightly. "But I'm not grown yet."

Smiling, Perkins shook her head too. "No, but you're growing, aren't you, little love?"

"Yes. I am growing." Mary smiled at her, her brow clearing. "And I _can _think for myself. I'm not a baby."

"So, perhaps you know better?" Perkins posed this as a question.

Mary's smile widened. "Yes, I know better. I can think , and I'm not a baby. Mama and Papa need sleep." Her face lit up, as if she thought of something for the first time. "I need sleep too, don't I?"

Perkins let out a low laugh. "Yes, Lady Mary. You need your sleep too. And you can't get any if you're standing here in the hallway, can you?"

"No, I can't." She inclined her head in a sharp nod, once, as if she'd made her decision. "I'm going back to bed now." She turned to go, and then spun back around to the still kneeling lady's maid. "Might you do something for me?"

"What's that, Lady Mary?" Perkins wondered what she could be asking of her.

"Will you please not tell Mama and Papa I was out here?" She looked somewhat fearful. "I don't want – " Mary's mouth snapped shut, as if she thought she'd said too much.

"I promise. I won't tell them you were out here." She smiled at her again, almost certain that the end of the sentence would have indicated that she was frightened her nanny would be taken away from her if they found out.

"Thank you." She drew herself up as tall as she could, possibly to show what a big girl she was, and said one last thing before she started back to her room: "Goodnight."

Perkins stood and watched her go back to her bedroom, listening for the door to click shut. Then she put the linens away and went to her own room.

* * *

Tucked up in bed, but not tired enough to sleep just yet, Perkins allowed her mind to wander. It gratified her that she could make some amends with her ladyship by helping the exhausted parents with Lady Mary. And it gratified her even more that they would be able to have their time together again, hopefully with proper sleep.

Her face burning, her lips upturned in a grin, she recalled once more the image of the two pressed up against the wall of her ladyship's room – the magnificence of it all, the exquisite cry of utter bliss that erupted from Lady Grantham's throat, expressive of a joy so complete that she was incapable of suppressing it, even knowing that Perkins stood right there as witness.

Perkins had never been one for fantasies and fairy tales of love; her life was too simple and straight-forward, Perkins herself too pragmatic, for such things. But if ever she had a picture in her mind of what love would be like, it would be something that made her cry out just like that.

Frowning slightly, Perkins wondered if she shouldn't be attempting to forget such an intimate moment, and she reddened even more to recollect how often she'd played it in her mind over the past several days. But as she continued to think about it, she recognized that, although this truly had been a private moment, she had beheld other moments that might be regarded in some ways as even more intimate, as it was not their bodies that were naked, but their souls.

For Perkins' picture of love had begun to take shape long before she'd walked in on the pair several days prior, and it included so many of those intimate things that they perhaps didn't realize they were disclosing to anyone else: the endearments that escaped their lips; the way one would light up when the other entered a room; the warmth of their smiles or their voices when addressing one another, even when they spoke of the most mundane things; the gentle kiss upon a forehead or press of a hand; the little compliments that Lord Grantham paid his wife or the way he paused when kissing her cheek, inhaling the fragrance of her perfume; the tender touches of the hand, the shoulder, the nape of the neck when one passed the other in a room; how they held their daughters and exchanged looks of pride and love over the girls' heads; and the way they shared a bedroom – never mind convention or who might gossip over such a thing or what the servants thought – as if they were so much a part of one another they couldn't bear even to sleep separately. Even the rare disagreements or arguments they might have in the presence of anyone else carried such a familiarity and an affection in them that one was certain these were the seeds of reconciliation.

So when Perkins had observed the frenzied coupling of her employers, had seen the tender kisses along her shoulder of which his lordship was still capable in the middle of such heat, had heard her ladyship's exultant cry – she knew this was simply one more part of the whole, another moment that laid bare their souls through the physical joining of their bodies, which only happened to be bare as well.

True love had many facets; the love of Lord and Lady Grantham taught her that.

* * *

Cora slept soundly that night, Robert's arms wrapped around her. They'd gone straight to sleep, the exhaustion of the past week, the past month, overtaking them. Robert, however, awakened a few hours later, his body now used to Mary's nightly interruption. He hoped that he wouldn't hear her knock, thought that perhaps they had hit upon the perfect solution to the problem, but he did know his daughter's stubbornness. It had been a ruse, of course, the threat of taking her nanny away and replacing her with Nurse Walters, and Robert had no clue what he would do if Mary came knocking. He couldn't actually follow through with the threat, and then where would they be?

Fortunately for everyone concerned, Mary didn't knock on the door that night. After about a half hour, Robert fell asleep again, clutching his wife tightly to him. For the first night in many weeks, there was nothing between them.

The next morning, Robert and Mary had their lessons together. Near the end of them, Robert looked at his little daughter, then smiled and kissed her head. "Thank you, Mary, for being a big girl and staying in your room last night."

Mary turned her face to him and grinned, nodding. "Papa, I'm not grown yet, but I'm growing. And growing girls need their sleep too."

This pronouncement took Robert aback slightly. "Why, yes, Mary. Growing girls do need their sleep too." He smiled warmly as she went back to practicing her letters, her hand shaky on its own, the figures barely discernable as an alphabet. He watched her with tenderness, and he thought, _Yes, you're growing, and all too soon will be a grown woman, and Papa will not know where the time has gone._

Becoming frustrated that her letters didn't resemble closely enough the ones they'd traced together, Mary looked up at her father. "I need help, Papa. Please?"

Robert nodded, a lump forming in his throat that he couldn't seem to speak around. He put his large hand over her tiny one, gently guiding her fingers to form the characters. _And soon you won't want Papa's help anymore_, he thought. He put his other hand over her left arm and sighed softly, reminding himself to tuck these moments safely in his heart. He knew he forgot to all too often.

* * *

That afternoon Cora received her lover in her bedroom again. They had a thoroughly satisfying romp on one of the chairs – so satisfying they'd broken it.

The pair lay across the bed together, a sheet draped over them, facing one another with heads propped on elbows. Robert ran a thumb along the length of her arm lightly, sending delicious chills up and down Cora's spine.

"I never liked that chair anyway," Robert said. "Although I will admit I liked it better just before its demise…." He chuckled, prompting a peal of laughter from his wife.

"It was very useful today. We'll get a better one. A stronger one," she remarked, grinning. "At least neither of us was hurt."

Robert laughed. "I thought for sure someone would come running to make sure you were alright when you shrieked in astonishment earlier."

Cora blushed and remembered why Perkins had walked in on them before. "Oh, I think we have a guardian angel keeping that from happening perhaps." Her expression was enigmatic.

"Why do you say that?" he asked in confusion.

"Oh, no reason." She leaned forward and kissed him, hoping to distract him, her fingers running over his jawline and then caressing the back of his neck.

The distraction proved effective. "Mmmm…" he purred, smiling at her when the kiss ended, her hand still on his neck, her thumb rubbing the very ends of his hair gently. After a moment, he lowered his head with a sigh.

Cora's brow puckered. "What's the matter, darling?"

He lifted his eyes to hers. "I just realized that we won't have our afternoons together anymore. Now that we can have our nights to ourselves, I really need to get back to running the estate more actively. Everyone has been very understanding, but it's my responsibility ultimately."

A cloud passed over Cora's face. "Yes, I know. It's been exciting, the sneaking around, someone thinking I'm having an illicit affair." She paused to chuckle lightly. "I suppose we'll have to go back to being a boring married couple again." The corners of her lips twitched with mirth.

Robert smiled and looked at her tenderly, bringing his hand up to push her hair back and cup her cheek gently. "We aren't boring." He kissed her this time, then leaned back again to meet her eyes with adoration.

"But it will be the end of our 'affair.'" Cora gave him a small smile.

Robert caressed her cheek. "Oh, no, sweetheart. Our clandestine afternoon meetings may have come to a close, but our love affair will never end." He dropped his voice to a whisper, "Not as long as I draw breath, my love." Drawing her closer to him, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again, intent on showing her just how much he meant it.


	7. Epilogue: Hazel

Summer, 1904

Perkins dressed her ladyship's hair with trembling fingers. She had something to tell her mistress, and she didn't know how it would be received. After she placed the last pin in the coiffure, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly before saying, "My lady, might I have a word with you before you go downstairs?"

Cora lifted her eyes to Perkins' in the mirror as she fastened on her earrings. The midday sunlight hit the lady's maid's face in such a way that Cora could see dark circles beneath her eyes she hadn't noticed before. "Of course you might, Perkins." Cora turned in her chair to face her.

Taking another deep breath and letting it out slowly, Perkins kept her eyes on her mistress. "My lady, Mr. Haverty has asked me to marry him. And I've accepted." Perkins held her breath.

For almost a full minute, Cora stayed perfectly still, gaping at her. Then she asked, "Mr. Haverty? The tailor in Ripon?"

Perkins nodded. "Yes, my lady. He is moving his business to another county, and he asked me to go with him. I would have to leave your employ, Lady Grantham." She looked close to tears as she spoke the last sentence.

"But – how? When?" Cora suddenly felt drained of her ability to speak. Perkins leave her? It was unimaginable. Perkins had been with her for over ten years now. The lady's maid had seen her at her best… and her worst. She had been there while Cora had been pregnant with Sybil, while trying to deal with three small girls, while Robert had been away in the war…. She had helped them with their afternoon dalliances when their marriage needed them – as they had sometimes – had kept all Cora's secrets and been there for her when she needed to talk through an idea or a problem. She had seen her break down occasionally after meetings with her mother-in-law, something about which not even her husband knew. How could she ever do without Perkins?

"I see him when I go into Ripon to order materials, supplies, my lady. He has better quality things than the village dry goods store, you see. We have many things in common, and over the years we've formed a sort of bond. He began to write to me about a year ago, as I am not in Ripon all that often, and he'd thought that it would be nice to correspond." Perkins began to blush. "I started to spend my half days there, or he would meet me in the village, and… well, my lady," she said, smiling, "he's asked me to marry him, and I very much want to. Although I don't know how I will bear leaving Downton." She smiled sadly, blinking back tears.

Cora watched Perkins' face during this speech, tears coming to her own eyes. Her lady's maid was clearly attached to her suitor. Cora knew Mr. Haverty only by reputation, but everyone acknowledged him to be an honest, decent, steady sort of man. "Why didn't you tell me before?" She couldn't pretend it wasn't a shock.

Perkins studied her hands. "I didn't think he would ever ask, my lady. And it's not the sort of thing one speaks of to one's employer."

Cora nodded her assent. "I'm sorry, Perkins. You're perfectly right, of course." Sighing, she asked, "When will you be married?"

"We won't be married until you're settled with someone new, my lady. Edward – Mr. Haverty, that is – will be getting things arranged. The new shop and a house for us. Neither of us has any family, so we'll simply have a quiet ceremony in the new town." Perkins fixed her gaze on her mistress. "It will take some time for him to get everything done, so there is no need to hurry, Lady Grantham. I couldn't leave knowing that you weren't comfortable with whomever you have take my place."

"That sounds very well, Perkins. But I won't drag out the process either. I'm sure you'd like to join him there as soon as you can." Cora gave her a small smile, then tilted her head and drew her brows together. "Might I ask you a rather personal question?"

Somewhat stunned by this, Perkins replied, "Of course you may, my lady."

"Do you love him?" It might have sounded like a silly question coming from many people, but not from Cora. Cora had crossed the ocean and left an entire life behind her for the sake of love, not even sure her husband would ever return it. To her, it was a powerful thing, an important thing. Possibly the most important thing.

Smiling, Perkins nodded, venturing to speak plainly to her mistress now – a candid answer for a candid question. "I do. Nothing short of that could have induced me to leave my position here, Lady Grantham. He is a good man, very kind, with integrity. He is also simple and practical, and plain-speaking – like me." Perkins smiled wider now, looking her ladyship directly in the eyes. "He doesn't mind that we're probably too old to have a family; he told me I would be enough for him. As he will be for me."

Cora wondered if Perkins – living her somewhat sheltered existence mostly within the walls of Downton, or in the house in London – could know whereof she spoke. "But, how do you know?" Her eyes widening, Cora put her hand over her mouth. "I apologize, Perkins. That was a dreadfully impertinent question. And it's really not my concern."

Perkins shrugged slightly and smiled softly at Lady Grantham. "My lady, I believe it is from concern you speak, and you can't know what that means to me. And I'll answer your question, Lady Grantham, if you don't mind a bit of impertinence on my part?" At this, her cheeks reddened.

Curious now at what her lady's maid would say, Cora inclined her head in assent.

Clasping her hands together, Perkins looked down at her mistress, still smiling. "I know because I've seen love. I've seen the looks and heard the words – not just the sentiments themselves, but the way of speaking love generates. I've seen the way love binds two people, the way they cannot bear to be apart, and the way they do bear it because they know they have to, and they do that out of love as well. Love gives people strength – sometimes strength to one to help the other when the other is weak. And it creates a sort of comfort in the presence of the other person you can't get anywhere else. A sort of comfort that even others can see, when they're observant, when they're perceptive enough to know exactly what they are witnessing. Love makes even their disagreements acts of loving. I've seen all of this and more." Perkins' eyes grew tender. "And I can see this in Edward, the way he looks at me, speaks to me, and the way he completely relaxes when we're together. The words in his letters, the touch of his hand. I see it in myself – can feel it in myself, the love for him. My lady, I know love's not just a feeling, it's action. The day to day caring of one another. I want to take care of him, and he wants to be the one who takes care of me."

Cora listened intently to this speech, feeling tears slide down her face. "How beautifully you put it. But where have you seen it, love like that?" She asked the question out of unconcealed interest now. She thought perhaps Perkins' own parents had set her example for her, one she'd carried with her over the years.

Perkins fixed her with a somewhat baffled look. "Lady Grantham, I've seen it here. With you. With you and his lordship. I think it's the only model of true love I've ever known."

The statement settled into Cora's mind and spread a warmth into the rest of her body. She hadn't realized that all these years Perkins had lifted up their love affair as her ideal. Looking down briefly, Cora extracted her handkerchief out of the pocket of her dress before turning her tear-streaked face to her lady's maid. "I –"

A knock at the dressing room door interrupted her. "Cora," Robert said through the door, "We've got Mama arriving here for luncheon soon, and she'll be thoroughly displeased if we're not there to greet her."

Cora smiled at Perkins before calling out, "Come in, Robert. I'm almost ready."

Opening the door, his eyes went directly to his wife as they always did. "Cora? What's wrong, sweetheart?" He crossed to her dressing table and took her hand in his.

Glancing briefly at him, she continued to smile at Perkins, dabbing at her tears with her handkerchief, squeezing his hand to reassure him. "I'm alright. Well, not exactly. Perkins is leaving me to get married."

Robert turned an astonished look on the lady's maid. "What?"

Perkins blushed and lowered her eyes, saying nothing.

"I'll tell you all about it later. For now we should go downstairs." Cora pulled her eyes away from her lady's maid to look at herself in the mirror, trying to make herself presentable again. "Perkins, that will be all. We'll discuss this further after luncheon."

"Yes, my lady. Your lordship." Perkins left the room feeling somewhat relieved. _Well, that's over and done_, she thought as she made her way downstairs.

"Cora, she's leaving? I didn't realize she would want to leave service." Robert rested his hand gently on her shoulder while she wiped her face and applied powder, knowing she must be upset over the news.

"I don't think it's that she wants to leave service, darling. I think it's that she wants that much to get married. She's in love." Cora smiled, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

His eyes widened. "In love? Well, I hope she won't just up and abandon you, Cora."

Finished now, Cora stood and wrapped her arms around him. "Now, Robert, when have you ever known Perkins to be the type to abandon me – either of us?"

"No, you're right. But I know what love can do to people sometimes." He grinned down at her, then pressed a kiss to her lips. "It will be a shame to lose her, though. She's been a most excellent and loyal employee."

"I know. I honestly don't think I can find anyone who can fill her shoes in the same way. But I do wish her happiness. I wish her a love affair that is as wonderful as ours." Cora touched his cheek.

"Oh, I'm not sure there can be any as wonderful as ours." Robert's eyes danced in mirth. "Perhaps she can have the second most wonderful." Kissing her once more, he took her hand and led her out of the room.

* * *

Perkins married Edward Haverty approximately a month later. Two weeks after this, Cora received a letter. She smiled at the name on the return address: Mrs. Hazel Perkins Haverty. Saving the letter for when she could read it by herself, Cora took it out during her afternoon rest time, got comfortable on the chaise, and began to read:

_Dear Lady Grantham,_

_First of all, I would like to thank you and Lord Grantham for your generous wedding gift to me and my husband. Such a sum will come in useful as the shop becomes established here, and I cannot begin to express my gratitude for your kindness. Might you extend my thanks to Lord Grantham as well, please?_

_Everything is going as planned. Edward and I had a few days respite after the wedding, but we felt irresponsible going away on a trip. We stayed and set up proper housekeeping instead, and we will take a trip, possibly to Cornwall, early next year, if the business goes well. I take in alterations and help Edward with clients here, and it is hard work, but good work too. It gratifies me to be close to him throughout the day._

Cora grinned, knowing that her former lady's maid would certainly be gratified by this.

_I do hope all is well at Downton, and that your new lady's maid is working out. Miss O'Brien appeared both qualified and capable, and I could not have left if you hadn't found someone you'd liked._

In fact, Perkins had expressed a few reservations about Sarah O'Brien, but Cora had not listened to them. She wanted to have someone as soon as she could, so Perkins could get married, and they had already been looking for several weeks before interviewing O'Brien. She was far and away the best qualified of all the candidates who had come forward. Perkins stayed a few days to show O'Brien around the house and how Cora liked things done. Perkins reported that, although O'Brien hadn't been rude or surly, she had not struck Perkins as particularly amiable or friendly. Cora told Perkins that it was done, and O'Brien, as the most appropriate of the candidates, would have to do. She was pleasant enough in Cora's presence, which Perkins did admit.

Of course, Robert confided to his wife that he thought O'Brien looked at him as if he were a foreign and unwelcome object if he happened to enter the bedroom before the new lady's maid had left it. "Perkins never looked at me like that," he remarked. Cora told her husband that he was being silly. Nevertheless she began to notice this as well after he'd pointed it out.

Cora sighed. It would have to be fine. As she continued to read, getting to the end of the letter, having laughed aloud several times at the things Perkins – well, Hazel – wrote her, she knew it really would be. Hazel Perkins Haverty was happy in her new life. And Cora couldn't help but be happy _for_ her.

_My decade at Downton Abbey was a delightful one, Lady Grantham, and that was largely thanks to you, but also to the other members of the staff, to being allowed to see your daughters grow from babes into the beautiful little girls they are now, and to the magnanimity of Lord Grantham to all who work at Downton. I will return to these memories often and smile. And now I am a living a wonderful life here with Edward, your ladyship, and I couldn't be more pleased. I wish you everything good and lovely, Lady Grantham, along with every happiness._

_My fondest regards,_

_Mrs. Hazel Haverty_

After reading this affectionate closing salutation, Cora then had to screw up her eyes. Here was a post script, but a line had been drawn through it. However, Cora could just make out the words. She laughed when she read them, knowing that her former lady's maid had most likely decided that what she'd written was rather too cheeky, but still didn't want to hide it entirely, knowing somehow Cora would appreciate it. And she did. It made her remember an afternoon ten years ago, when Edith had finally gone back to regular feedings after an earache, and Robert's attentions to her were of such a nature that she simply couldn't contain her delight, bringing her lady's maid to her door to check on her.

_P.S. Sound doesn't seem to carry from our house. And the walls appear very sturdy. We've been testing them._

* * *

A/N: I got the idea for this story from page 146 of _The World of Downton Abbey_, where it talks about tea gowns and how Lady Colin Campbell's husband divorced her after her lady's maid ratted her out about her affair. The lady's maid caught her_ because something was off with her tea gown fastenings_. And this fic was born. I hope you enjoyed Perkins. I quite fell in love with her myself and wanted to make sure she got some terrific fun of her own.


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